


Harry Potter and the OMG Hermione is not ugly

by Aurora077



Series: Realisations [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confusion, Crush, Dating, F/M, Funny, Harry Potter - Freeform, Humor, Humour, Misunderstandings, Realisations, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-13 14:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12986340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora077/pseuds/Aurora077
Summary: Harry has a realisation. Can be read as a companion piece to Harry’s Woeful Week but can also work as a standalone I hope.Disclaimer: The Harry Potter franchise is owned by the lovely JKR.





	1. Realisations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has some realisations.

Harry Potter had been acting weird, Hermione observed. Of course she had first attributed it to stress, after all the past couple weeks had been crazy. The death eaters had broken out of Azkaban and Sirius was being blamed. Harry had done an interview with Rita Skeeter of all people at Hermione’s own request and then subsequently saw the Quibbler being banned by Umbitch because of it. So many things had been happening. Harry’s Occlumency lessons were going terribly and he was moody with her for a bit because she scolded him for not trying hard enough when he saw through Voldemort’s eyes once more. Then to top it off that hag Umbish had sacked Professor Trelawney and as much as Hermione disliked the woman she conceded that even she didn’t deserve that treatment. 

But Harry couldn’t still be mad at her could he? He was avoiding her eyes lately. And sometimes she’d catch him looking away from her as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. She was worried that either he really did do something he shouldn’t have and didn’t want her to find out, or that he was still peeved with her for scolding him. She’d ask him a question sometimes and he’d give a start and answer her stuttering or in a strange high pitched or squeaky voice. She had taken to observing him and noticed that he hadn’t been doing that around anyone else. She was really starting to become quite concerned. But before she could think more about Harry, she really needed to finish her transfiguration essay. She’d have time to question Harry later. For now she’d just enjoy her dessert and then head to the library. She closed her eyes and savoured the warm treacle tart, giving a small _mmm_ of contentment while coming up with points to research in her head. The house elves (who she’d make sure to visit and thank when she could spare a minute) were really quite wonderful chefs.

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Ronald Weasley was once described as having the emotional range of a teaspoon. He was also accused of being as observant as a dead dormouse. But even Ron, with his limited capacity for observation, had noticed that something was off with his best mate. Of course, it was thanks to his favourite thing in the world that drew his attention to it: food. Ron decided he really needed to speak to his friend after he noticed Harry slowly nibbling on his treacle tart at dinner the night before. Normally Harry would devour treacle tart the way Ron ate everything else. But that wasn’t the only reason Ron thought something was up. No, the more concerning thing was that while basically ignoring his favourite dessert, he was staring at Hermione eating hers. How Hermione didn’t feel the weight of his gaze Ron didn’t know, but that stare was usually reserved for the treacle tart rather than the person eating it. Evidently though, Hermione’s mind was on her schoolwork ( _as usual_ Ron thought) as she decided to pose a question to Harry about their latest transfiguration assignment. Except, between Hermione lifting her eyes off her own dessert and training them on Harry, a strange but wonderful thing happened (in his eyes at least). Ron’s glee couldn’t be contained and his mirthful laughter rang out, joined by the rest of his house (sans a wide-eyed Harry and a bewildered Hermione).

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Harry had been lost in his own thoughts during dinner. He had failed to realise that his male best friend had been looking at him with a bemused and slightly worried expression as his attention was solely occupied by his female best friend. Harry didn’t know how to explain it but after his disastrous date with Cho he’d been realising certain things that he didn’t know how to deal with. You’d think that he’d be more worried about Umbridge or the escaped death eaters, but Harry knew decisively how he felt on those fronts. No, it was this new awareness that was bothering him. You see, Harry Potter had done a lot of thinking after his first date had gone awry. For hours he would toss and turn in his bed, trying to figure out how it had gone so wrong and what he could have done to make it better and if there was a potion he could take to make him understand girls. Harry Potter after all, was still a teenager, despite being the Chosen One or the Boy Who Lies (thought they were so clever for that one they did) or whatever hogwash the Daily Prophet was calling him these days. 

Cho Chang, his first crush, had initially been the cause of his distress. You see, Harry had been very confused when Cho, on their date, had shown such animosity when speaking of Hermione. As far as Harry knew, Hermione had never really interacted with Cho, so for her name to be said with such venom by the Ravenclaw had really perplexed and unsettled him. He hadn’t felt right listening to Cho speak of Hermione that way. And it hadn’t felt right when Hermione had tried to explain why the date went south and what he should have done instead. Because you see, Harry was never one to lie just for the heck of it. So when Hermione had said to him _“And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am”_ Harry honestly refuted it because he truly didn’t think she was ugly. And why should he tell a blatant lie like that? What would it accomplish? 

He had gone to bed to try and clear his thoughts after the date, but he hadn’t gotten any answers until the next day, with some help from a friend. So here he was, at dinner several weeks later, with an entirely new problem.

_*flashback Sunday 15th February 10:30pm*_

Around and around the thoughts swirled in his head. Why did Cho seem to hate Hermione so? Why was Cho angry that he wanted to meet his best friend after their date even though she was invited along? Why did Cho agree to go out with him but then tell him that Davies asked her out? Why did she come with Harry then if she preferred to be making out in public with Davies? Why was she always crying whenever she was with him? Why did she always seem to bring up the last topic he wanted to discuss with her aka Cedric? Why were they so awkward together? Why did Hermione think he should lie to Cho? Why of all lies would she want him to say she was ugly? Why? Why? Why? All Harry succeeded in doing was giving himself a major headache. He imagined himself as Wile E. Coyote holding up a help sign while staring at the anvil that’s inevitably going to drop on his head, leaving a bump and several chirping birds twirling around it.

All day these thoughts had plagued him but at least he had had others around to keep him occupied. Now, laying in the dark there was just him and his mind. He knew sleep wouldn’t claim him anytime soon, so he snuck out of the dorm as quietly as possible and found himself a cozy armchair near the fireplace. He leaned back and sighed forlornly. At times like this he found himself missing his parents terribly. He had never known them but he was sure that they would have been able to help him out. As it is, they were gone and he had to accept it. (He had of course, quite forgotten the mirror Sirius had gifted him, or he might have been able to at least talk to his godfather about his issues.) He stared into the fireplace, for once his mind not focused on his date, but with a new melancholic train of thought to replace it. So focused he was that he startled with an audible squeak when the portrait hole opened. 

“W.who’s there?” came a voice in response to his squeal. Harry relaxed. He recognised the owner of the voice. 

“It’s just me Neville. Just getting in from detention with Filch I suppose?” Harry said.

He could hear the relief in Neville’s voice as well when he answered yes. “What are you doing up Harry?” Neville asked. 

Harry considered answering with a simple ‘couldn’t sleep’ but for some reason in the dark stillness of the common room he felt more open than he normally would. He sighed and then said, “I had a lot on my mind, to be honest. Yesterday wasn’t the greatest for me. I expected to have a pleasant day but instead it was really quite confusing. I have too many questions and no answers that I can understand.”

“Why didn’t you talk to Ron or Hermione about it? I’m sure they could help. Hermione is really good at figuring out stuff,” Neville replied.

“I did speak to her but she really just left me feeling even more confused,” confessed Harry, “And as for Ron, I really don’t think he could help me here. He’s probably going to be equally confused.”  
“Well, you can talk to me if you’d like,” Neville said, hesitantly, “I’ll do my best to help you if I can.”

And so, Harry ended up telling him everything. He had to admit, saying everything out loud was kind of a relief. Letting it out of his head was half the battle. 

He never thought that he’d be giving Harry Potter of all people advice. But he had found himself offering to listen at least and help if he could. He doubted it though, because if Hermione Granger couldn’t help then how could he? But Harry was his friend and he’d do his best anyway. So when he heard what was troubling Harry, he was really quite surprised. Neville could probably actually have some answers for him. He really never expected it to be this simple. Though to Harry he was sure it wasn’t. He just hoped Harry didn’t get angry with him or anything if he didn’t like or agree with what Neville thought. But he was a Gryffindor after all so Neville would answer anyway.

He looked at Harry whose eyes seemed to be pleading with him to give him some clarity. He certainly hoped that he would be able to help. Neville took a deep breath, “Well Harry, I’d say Cho was jealous.”  
“Jealous? What do you mean jealous?” Harry asked perplexed. It seemed unfathomable to him that Cho should be jealous of anything when Harry liked her so much. 

“Um..well to answer your questions about why she’d be so angry about you talking to Hermione but not Ron, and why she was so annoyed when you said you would meet Hermione....it just seems that she’s jealous and a bit angry of course. As Ron discovered at the Yule Ball, Hermione is a girl after all,” Neville said, “To you she’s your friend Hermione. To Cho she’s the other girl you agreed to meet on Valentine’s Day.”  
He didn’t know why it took Neville quoting Ron for it to hit him, but it worked. Of course he always knew Hermione was a girl, even before the Yule Ball, but Hermione was in the category of friend. He’d never really thought much about it because it was him and Ron and Hermione. That was who they were. She was dear to him in the same way Ron was. But of course Cho saw it as Harry hanging out with another girl. Cho didn’t see Hermione the way he did. She just saw Harry going to meet another girl.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say but thanks Neville,” said Harry, “I mean I really never would have thought about it like that.”

“It’s no problem mate. And I would hazard a guess that’s why she brought up Davies asking her out. She probably wanted to see how you would react. I think....well...I think she wanted to see you be jealous too,” he said. 

Well that made sense to Harry now. Cho was probably trying to see if he was serious about her. 

“But what about all the crying? I mean honestly Nev, I feel like every time she sees me just wants to talk about Cedric,” Harry admitted, “Like sure we talked about Quidditch and stuff but it seemed....shallow really. It was really, really awkward. I mean I get we don’t know each other very well yet but I don’t know Luna or Ginny that well and it isn’t awkward like that with either of them.”

Neville had to be careful how to word his thoughts on that matter. “I think it’s normal to feel somewhat awkward when you like someone,” he started, “Luna and Ginny are your new friends so you aren’t trying to impress them or anything so it’s normal with them, but with Cho you have other feelings and so you feel more nervous around her.”

Harry nodded, accepting what he was saying. But Neville wasn’t finished. “The thing is mate....you and Cho aren’t really a normal couple,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” Harry said, looking slightly offended. 

“Well for one....you were the last person with her boyfriend before he died. I’m not saying she doesn’t like you, but I think...well I think a part of Cho wants to get close to you because it helps her to feel closer to Cedric. That’s why she keeps asking all these questions about him like if he mentioned her before he died,” he said, and Harry’s face fell.

“So you think she’s just using me then?” Harry said, voice trembling slightly.

“Yes and No,” he said, and hastened to explain when he saw Harry start to look confused again, “I think I agree with what Hermione told you in December. Cho does like you but she feels guilty because it’s like betraying Cedric’s memory. I think she isn’t fully over Cedric. When a person dies, our feelings for them don’t just go away after all. At the same time you’re the only one who can tell her about the last moments of his life. I think Cho is conflicted and doesn’t truly know what she wants. That’s why she’s always crying around you. Her emotions are too much for her to handle because she’s fighting with herself. She hasn’t moved on from her feelings for Cedric and she isn’t over his death. Liking you makes her feel incredibly guilty I imagine. Someone like Davies now, there’s no complications there, but with you it’s definitely complicated.”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, “How in Merlin’s name did you get so knowledgeable about stuff like this? Ron would never be able to give me answers like that.”

He smiled at that. “Well for one most of my friends are girls. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t really fit in that well with the guys, especially in Gryffindor,” he said, his voice going quieter at the end.  
And despite his urge to protest, Harry knew it was true. Neville did hang out more with Luna and Ginny, and even those Hufflepuff girls Susan and Hannah, than with Dean or Seamus or other guys in their house or otherwise. “And well, I did go to the Yule Ball with Ginny. She’s a great friend. She helped me to get over Hermione at least,” he said. 

This came as a shock to Harry. “You liked Hermione?” he said incredulously. 

Neville rubbed the back of his head, “Well, yeah. Don’t you remember I went with Ginny after Hermione turned me down?”

“Well, yes but I thought you just asked her because you needed a date. I didn’t realise you really liked her,” Harry replied.

“Of course I liked her. I thought it was really obvious too. Hermione’s kind and helpful. She never looked down on me like some of the others and she always helped me out if I didn’t understand something. And despite the fact that Ron didn’t notice she’s a girl, I always have. She’s really pretty too. Sure maybe not in the way Cho and Lavender is where they have all the guys falling all over them but Hermione is her own kind of beautiful. Even Krum noticed it. And that was before she attended the ball and blew everyone’s minds. I can’t lie that day I was really jealous he asked her before I gathered the courage to.”

Harry didn’t know why his stomach was suddenly squirming. 

“And I know you think she is as well,” Neville said to him.

“You know I think she’s what?” Harry said, having lost himself in his mind for a minute.

“Pretty. I mean you said it yourself that you wouldn’t lie to Cho to say Hermione’s ugly when you don’t think so,” Neville said, “Hermione told you that you should have said she was ugly because she knew that Cho was jealous. But I think you wouldn’t have ever insulted Hermione just to get Cho, or any other girl for that matter, to like you. Right?”

Harry felt his mouth go dry as his mind tried to come up with ways to reject the statement. Except...he couldn’t. He truly wouldn’t put down his best friend just to impress anyone. Besides, he really didn’t think Hermione was ugly. But, he’d never labelled what he thought of her either. And now that Neville said it...if he denied it he’d be lying wouldn’t he? Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that Neville was right. 

He had followed Neville up to bed then, but his dreams were full of bushy hair and clear, beautiful laughter. 

_*end flashback*_

That’s what brought on Harry’s current dilemma. Since that night he’d been...noticing things. Things like how Hermione’s hand felt when her fingers brushed his as she took his charms essay from him to check it over. How her hair smelled when it accidentally got in his face as she squeezed past him to get to another bookshelf in the library. How her laugh made her eyes light up when the twins played a prank on the Inquisitorial Squad. He noticed how she bit her lip when she was concentrating really hard and how she’d screw up her nose when she disapproved of something. He found himself staring a little too long and being unable to concentrate well in her presence. More than once she almost caught him and he would panic or flinch away, hastily looking in the other direction. 

He attempted to be casual and nonchalant, but unbeknownst to him he was failing quite spectacularly. Hermione picked up on his strange behaviour right away but simply attributed it to him being angry with her. Today however, she was absorbed in her dessert and her own thoughts. She didn’t notice Harry staring at the way she chewed the tart. She also didn’t notice how little attention he was paying to his own. His eyes were trained on her; he gulped as she savoured her treacle with a contented little noise of enjoyment. His own tart was merely stuck halfway on the way to his mouth, as his focus was on hers. He hadn’t expected her to break out of her dessert stupor to talk about homework. 

So when Hermione looked up at him he panicked. He didn’t want to be caught staring after all; she’d have questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer. And Harry was a terrible liar, especially when it came to lying to Hermione, who could spot lies from a mile away. Needless to say brown eyes met green, and Harry’s treacle tart met Malfoy’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews help Harry come to terms with his feelings.
> 
> A/N: This story is a sort of continuation of my other story Harry’s Woeful Week, but because his date with Cho is canon you should be able to understand it without having read that.


	2. Treacle Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day in the life of Harry Problematic Potter

Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. For a moment there was utter silence in the great hall before Ron's burst of laughter prompted everyone else's. Harry, in an attempt to seem casual and like I-was-just-minding-my-own-business-and-totally-not-staring-at-you, had hastily raised his arm to rub the back of his head (like that was _sooo_ casual at dinner). Except, Harry had completely forgotten he was holding his treacle tart, which slipped out of his hand at his panicked movement. The next moment seemed to move in slow-mo for him as his tart flew across the room.

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Hermione was at an utter loss to explain what just happened. One minute she had a question on the tip of her tongue about transfiguration, the next, her best friend's treacle tart was soaring across the room and making it's acquaintance with a certain Slytherin's face (with an audible _whap_ too). Said Slytherin was rapidly turning Gryffindor red as the tart slid down his face and to the floor.

All he had been trying to do was leave the great hall, but Potter had to make him the laughingstock of the evening. He was so angry he couldn't speak. But Potter's attention had finally left his bushy-haired friend and had turned to look at Malfoy with wide, shocked eyes. Draco noticed he wasn't laughing with the rest and so instead of taking points like he should have, he just stomped out of the great hall and made his way back to his dorm. Normally for a feat like that he'd give the prat detention and remove points. But for some reason he didn't, and he really didn't want to think about why. _"You know why,"_ a small voice in the back of his head taunted him, _"It's because of The Incident."_ He shook his head to get rid of that thought and flopped down on his bed. The voice was right though. Thanks to those wretched Weasley twins Potter now had something to hold against him. He didn't like the idea of Potter having blackmail material on him so he just stayed out of his way as much as possible. _"Right. That's why. Blackmail. You tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night,"_ the voice said slyly. "Oh shut up!" Draco grunted audibly. Just great. Now he was talking to himself. Darn that Potter! And he couldn't even tell his father about this.

Meanwhile back at the Gryffindor table Hermione was looking at Harry with a thoughtful expression. Earlier on she had thought that Harry was only acting weird towards her but now that she really thought about it, he was acting weird with regard to Malfoy as well. Usually Harry took every opportunity he got to complain about the Slytherin. But lately whenever she or Ron brought up Malfoy he was strangely silent, only grunting in agreement and generally trying to change the topic.

And Malfoy himself was acting weird. Instead of following them around and taking points at every opportunity he appeared to be avoiding them, even going so far as to lead the Inquisitorial Squad away from them. Even when they accidentally caught eyes he would just sneer and walk away as opposed to pelting insults. Something was going on. She didn't know what but she would definitely make it her business to find out. After all what if Harry were in some sort of trouble? Maybe that's why he kept avoiding her gaze and acted so twitchy around her. He probably thought if she found out she'd be mad at him. Well, that was going to have to stop. What kind of best friend would she be if she didn't help her friend out of whatever trouble he was in? He didn't even seem to be thinking about winning over Cho anymore so something really must have been wrong.

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Ron couldn't hide his amusement at the situation. "Good one mate!" he chuckled, thumping Harry on the back, "Did you see the look on his face?" He ignored the angry murmurs coming from the Slytherin table and the glares some of them shot in their direction. By some really random stroke of luck, none of the teachers had witnessed what happened which was fortunate for them. The incident had completely wiped out all thoughts of finding out what was up with Harry's weird behaviour. All Ron could think about was Malfoy's face with that tart on it. The git had it coming, in his opinion. But somehow, while everyone was enjoying seeing Malfoy get his comeuppance, Harry was just looking melancholy.

"You okay mate?" Ron asked, noticing Harry's lack of enthusiasm.

"Yeah I'm fine," he said, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Hermione and then turning back to Ron, "I think I'm just gonna head in now. I'm full and Malfoy's wearing my dessert after all."

And with that Harry took off like he was being chased, leaving behind two confused best friends.

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Just great, thought Harry, as he trudged up to the common room. He'd made a fool out of himself in front of Hermione. And he was lucky Malfoy didn't retaliate, although he didn't count it out just yet. Harry didn't stop to consider why exactly he was bothered that Hermione saw that dinner disaster, especially since it really wasn't the first time she bore witness to him doing something stupid. If she had laughed he would have counted it as a victory but as it was, Hermione had just turned to him with a look of utter bafflement. He assumed that meant she disapproved. Somehow, the thought of Hermione's disapproval left a bad taste in his mouth. Never mind that he did many things she disapproved of before and that it had never bothered him that much.

He plopped down in the very same armchair he sat in when Neville had helped him clear his head of some worries, but introduced some new ones as well. It was starting to become a habit to go to that one. Everyone would start coming back to the common room soon and he didn't feel like being around too many people at the moment. But it was too early to go up to bed and he knew he would only toss and turn anyway. Maybe if he got a head start on his transfiguration essay then Hermione would forget about dinner and start thinking about homework. School could always be counted on to distract her. Besides, something in the back of his head was telling him she'd approve of this, and really, though he didn't quite consciously know it, the thought of her approval left a tingly feeling in his stomach. He merely attributed the feeling to stress though. The poor oblivious dear.

Ron and Hermione came up to the common room together a little while after. As it turned out, Harry was right about homework distracting her. "Hey Hermione could you look over my transfiguration essay for me?" he asked, before she could get a word out.

She looked pleasantly surprised, "You're finished already?"

"I am," he replied, feeling slightly proud of himself. Harry had come to realise that throwing himself into work was a good way to clear his head of other thoughts.

"That's great Harry! Of course I'll check it over for you," she cried, "I'm glad to see you're taking your schoolwork seriously. Unlike some people we know." She shot a glare at Ron, who was busy stuffing his mouth with a Cornish pasty he brought up from dinner.

"What," he mumbled, spewing some crumbs onto his shirt, "Thish ish my pwe-homewoke schnack."

"Ugh, Ronald! How many times have I told you to chew and swallow your food before you speak?" she scolded, sounding remarkably like Mrs. Weasley.

"Showwy," he said, grinning sheepishly with his mouth still full, which allowed a few more crumbs to decorate his clothing.

Hermione just face-palmed and stifled an annoyed groan, muttering about manners and hygiene. Of course, Harry was just glad he wasn't on the receiving end of her displeasure. Better Ron than him.

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Hermione was surprised but happy at Harry's initiative. In fact she was actually so surprised that she forgot to question him about his recent behaviour. She herself hadn't finished her essay as yet, but that was because she'd ended up writing twice the required amount and was forcing herself to redo it in a more concise manner so Professor McGonagall wouldn't start worrying about her overworking herself again. The irony of this didn't quite strike her.

She sat down in the armchair across from Harry's, head bent, scanning through his essay for any faults. She was absorbed in it, pleased that Harry's quality of work seemed to have improved, for that particular assignment at least. She finished reading it through and moved over to the armrest of his chair to point out a few grammatical errors.

Harry took the parchment from her and corrected them a bit shakily, thanked her for her help, and bid them both a good night. He claimed all that thinking made him exhausted and all but ran up the stairs to his dorm. This odd behaviour reminded Hermione that she was supposed to talk to Harry about whatever was bothering him. But she supposed she would have to wait until tomorrow to do it, and so she set about finishing her own essay with a disgusted look at Ron who had gotten crumbs all over his.

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Harry lay in his bed, glad to be away from the common room. His essay had distracted him from his woes for a while. But then Hermione had smiled at him in that proud manner and his chest felt funny. He didn't know what it was but seeing her so concentrated on his essay was suddenly making him feel strange. And when a lock of hair fell in her face he had the urge to brush it away and tuck it behind her ear.

It was too much then for poor Harry when she sat next to him to point out the few errors he had made. He had barely managed to focus on what she was saying as he found himself thinking what a nice voice she had. Their hands brushing as she returned his parchment made his stomach flip and having had enough sensory overload for one day, he unsteadily corrected his essay and decided, for his sanity, that he should go to bed. His mind didn't know what to make of these new observations about one of his best friends.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Poor Harry. Denial: Not just a river in Egypt.
> 
> Reviews help Harry learn to swim.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who gave my story kudos, I'm really glad you like it and I hope you enjoy the rest of it as well :)


	3. Ronmato

Chapter 3  


Ron rubbed his belly as he headed up to bed. Dinner was great. Of course, every meal at Hogwarts was great. Almost as great as his mother’s cooking. He was satisfied with his meal that evening and even more satisfied with his snacks. It was rather late now though and all he wanted was to sleep. He would have been to bed earlier except Hermione had refused to look over his essay until he redid it on parchment that didn’t look like “it went for a romp in the mud with a crumple horned snorkack” to quote her (and you knew she was disgusted if she resorted to using Luna’s alleged imaginary creatures). He couldn’t help it if his chocolate frog was too close to the fire and had started melting by the time he was ready to eat it. And of course if his biscuit crumbs got stuck in the chocolate what could he do about that? He conveniently forgot about the oil stains and crumbs from the pasty and the huge red stain from the blood pop (Which he would never be having again! Blech! He didn’t know how vampires stomached it.)  
He noticed his dorm mates were all asleep already. Not surprising given how long it took him to redo the essay, plus Harry had gone to bed rather early. He _was_ surprised though at the fact that Harry had finished his essay so quickly. Usually the two of them would be straggling behind and getting scolded by Hermione for not starting it earlier. He felt rather lonely being the only one getting scolded. Misery loved company after all.  


He got changed for bed and brushed his teeth. Flopping down wearily on his bed he endeavoured to find a comfortable position. Soon he was napping.  


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Harry was having a rather pleasant dream. Hermione had invited him on a picnic and they were sitting under a tree near the lake. She was wearing a pretty blue sundress and her eyes were sparkling with laughter. “Say _ahhh_ Harry,” dream Hermione said, coming closer as she tried to feed him a piece of cake. “Ahhh” said Harry, closing his eyes and opening his mouth obediently, feeling ecstatic at his luck. After waiting excitedly for a minute with nothing happening he started to feel foolish. “Hermione?” he said, opening his eyes. But there was no Hermione there. Instead, in her place was Draco. _“Malfoy!”_ he screeched, scrabbling backwards quickly to put some distance between them. Malfoy looked almost hurt. “What’s the matter Harrykins?” he said, pouting, “You don’t want any treacle tart? I made it myself too. Come on now, open up.” Draco started coming towards him, a treacle tart in hand. Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head in a dead faint.  


He abruptly woke up in his bed, his heart racing from fright. “What a nightmare,” he mumbled, before turning over and trying to fall back asleep. He only hoped he had no more dreams. He did have occlumency with Snape to dread the next day after all. He’d need all the sleep he could get.  


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_A few days later_  


“Well done Mr. Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, returning his essay, “I expect that you’ll keep up the good work, yes?” He nodded, feeling the tips of his ears turning hot from the rare praise.  


“No way!” said Ron, his partner for the day’s lesson in changing toads to tomatoes, “How’d you get an O mate? I didn’t even get an A!”  


Hermione perked up at that. “You got an O Harry?” she said, looking over his shoulder from behind, where she sat with her own partner, Neville. A proud grin stretched across her face. “That’s marvellous! I knew you had it in you,” she said, before turning back to help Neville catch his floating, red, and decidedly not-a-tomato, toad.  


Harry smiled to himself, his face the shade of Neville’s toad. His happiness was short lived however, as he absentmindedly tried to transfigure his own toad. An audible pop was heard and the class gasped as Harry suddenly found himself without a partner.  


In his daze he was unprepared for the toad to hop away, as such his spell bypassed it completely, hitting his unfortunate companion, Ron. Left on Ron’s seat was a rather large tomato.  


“Ahhh what’s happened to me?!!” said the tomato.  


“It can talk!” squealed Lavender Brown.  


“Just great,” sighed Harry. He should have known his day was going too good to be true.  


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“I’m sorry Ron!” Harry cried, pleading with his best friend for forgiveness as they made their way back to the common room.  


By some stroke of luck, Professor McGonagall did not give him detention. She didn’t even take points, only let him off with a stern warning about focusing on his task after she turned Ron back to himself. The objective of the lesson after all, was to transfigure a living being into a tomato. He’d managed to accomplish it, even if that animal turned out to be Ron instead of their toad. In fact, human transfiguration was supposed to be way above his skill level so the fact that he managed it slightly impressed the professor, who wouldn’t let him know it of course.  


Ron was much less impressed.  


It had been two days since the incident and he had not spoken to Harry since.  


He turned to Harry, before they could give the fat lady the password. “Look mate, I know it was an accident, but now everyone is calling me Ronmato!” His face, did not need transfiguring to turn tomato red.  


Ronmato was obviously still embarrassed by his stint as produce.  


“Yes, well, the twins started that one, it wasn’t my fault!” Harry said defensively, trying to hide his guilt at calling him Ronmato, even if it was only in his head.  


“No maybe not, but it _is_ your fault that I’m having nightmares about being turned into salsa and eaten!” Ron said vehemently.  


He gave the fat lady the password and stomped inside.  


Harry followed quickly.  


“What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked as an idea struck. “Listen, I’ll buy you a month’s supply of chocolate frogs, how about that?”  


Ron stopped his stomping.  


Harry knew appealing to Ron’s stomach would interest him.  


Ron turned to look at him. “Fine,” he acquiesced, “But you also have to get me some sugar quills.”  


“Okay, done,” Harry said, relieved to finally have his best friend on speaking terms with him again.  


“Good you’re both here,” Hermione said, coming through the portrait hole, “I’ve been meaning to talk some sense into you.”  


“It’s okay Hermione,” Harry pre-empted, “We’re all good now.”  


"Oh. Well, that’s good then,” she said, slightly taken aback. She’d expected Ron to be angry for at least another week. His temper was a thing to behold after all.  


“Yes, it is good,” said Harry, pleased that for once he and Ron could resolve their issues without dragging Hermione into it. He felt very mature.  


“Right. Good,” she said, trailing off as they both just stood there looking at each other.  


“Yes yes, we get it! Everything is good! Can we go have dinner now?” Ron said, interrupting their stare down, slightly impatient. They broke out of their stupor, and Ron thought they looked more tomato-like than him.  


“Ah dinner, yes, sounds good,” Hermione said, and she turned and scurried out of the common room without waiting for them.  


He’d forgotten because of the whole Ron-gets-turned-into-food thing but now that he was over it he recalled his friend’s strange behaviour the past couple weeks. It must be contagious, he thought, because now Hermione was also acting weird in addition to Harry. Ron hoped he didn’t start acting weird too, he thought, as he noticed Harry just staring at Hermione’s retreating form.  


“Well shall we mate?” he said, clapping Harry on the back.  


“Um yeah, dinner sounds great,” Harry said, and with a dazed look he let Ron lead him out of the portrait hole.


	4. Fruit Salad

Hermione didn’t want to admit it to herself at first. It was silly. It couldn’t be true after all. Harry was just Harry, her best friend. But she recalled his pleased, yet bashful expression when Professor McGonagall praised his essay and she felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn’t lie to herself after that. 

She liked Harry. 

There. She said it. 

Harry was humble and hardworking and kind. He didn’t always listen to her, true; he could be very stubborn. And he did have a tendency to stick with Ron and mimic his atrocious homework habits (though thankfully, not the eating habits). But recently he had been trying harder with his schoolwork. Even the professors noticed it. Sure he’d been acting kind of strange lately, but he was still the same old noble Harry. He offered to carry her books for her yesterday after seeing her yawn so huge she could have swallowed Mrs. Norris. Then he told her she should take care of herself more because her brain needed rest to continue fuelling her blinding brilliance. 

It was quite the compliment and if he hadn’t hurried ahead of her to the classroom he would have seen the bright red blush staining her cheeks. Of course unbeknownst to her the words had just slipped out of his mouth and when his brain caught up with what he said he had to get away from her before he made an even bigger fool of himself. Or so he thought anyway. 

She shook herself out of her thoughts as she found a seat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. She was slightly embarrassed at being caught staring by Ron of all people. Good thing he was so slow on the uptake or she would have felt even more embarrassed. She was sure nobody figured out her feelings, least of all Harry. After all, Harry may have loved her as a best friend but she was sure he saw her more like a sister than anything. Besides, he had Cho, though he hadn’t mentioned her in a while. It was as if their date on Valentine’s was so disastrous that he didn’t want to bring her up again. Maybe he realised they weren’t compatible and that’s why he was acting so weird. Heartbreak could change people after all. 

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Draco noticed Granger sitting by herself at the Gryffindor table. He craned his neck, trying to see if Potter and Weasley would follow suit. Sure enough, a few minutes later they both arrived and searched the table for their friend’s bushy head. They looked friendly again. He scowled. He didn’t know why but the past two days when Potter and Weasley weren’t speaking were the happiest of the term so far for him. He took every opportunity he got to taunt Ronmato. 

Weasley looked far too happy now, with his arm slung around Potter’s shoulders as they plopped down next to Granger. That just wouldn’t do. 

He abandoned his food in favour of sidling over to the Gryffindor table. 

“I see you’ve decided to show your face again Ronmato,” he commented, trying and failing to look casual.

Weasley frowned, “Oh sod off Malfoy! Nobody likes you.”

Potter nodded at that.

Malfoy felt oddly hurt. 

“Well _Ronmato_ ,” he spat, “You’re one to talk. You don’t belong anywhere! With your red hair and blotchy face. Nobody likes you either! Even as a fruit! Your tomato butt would get kicked out of a fruit salad so fast! Enjoy being a loser, _loser._ ” 

He marched off, fuming, leaving the Gryffindor table oddly silent, as their mouths were hanging open from shock. He wasn’t even in the mood to enjoy his particularly clever fruit insult. It was normal of course, for the trio and Malfoy to be at odds with each other. But usually by this time Malfoy would be taking points left right and centre. It was strange to see him stomp off without his usual arrogance. It was also strange that he had come to taunt the trio without his usual posse to back him up. Usually he’d at least finish his dinner. This time he left the great hall altogether. Though he was red and angry, his demeanour was different. It almost seemed like he was genuinely upset. 

But nah that couldn’t be, they collectively decided. Malfoy was Malfoy. He was just trying to mess with them as usual. 

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“What was that all about?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence that had descended on the table. Everyone started muttering after that, discussing what just happened with each other. She noticed Harry was staring at his plate, looking quite upset. 

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, feeling guilty. It was his fault after all, that Malfoy could insult Ron that way. Of course Malfoy usually insulted Ron anyway but Harry was Harry so feel guilty he would. 

Ron snorted, “Forget about him guys. Honestly I’m over it. That was so over the top I can’t even take it seriously.”

His friends stared at him. 

“What?” he questioned, at their incredulous looks.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Ginny commented from a few seats down. 

Ron was confused as to why everyone else was confused. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Oh, no reason, just eat Ron you look hungry,” Ginny replied. 

Ron needed no further encouragement; he dug into his food enthusiastically. 

“Ron’s growing up,” Ginny whispered to Dean, wiping a faux tear from her eye. Usually Ron would never be so calm in the face of an insult. Especially when coming from Malfoy. 

“Anyway,” Ron said, through a mouthful of food, “No wonder you keep having nightmares of him Harry. The bloke’s mental.” 

Harry twitched. “How do you know I’m having nightmares of Malfoy?” he said hoarsely. The past few nights his pleasant dreams had been interrupted several times by an overly affectionate and borderline cringy Malfoy. He would hate for the others to know what those nightmares entailed. They’d tease him to no end. Especially those rotten twins! They would know why he was having them in the first place, since it was their fault! 

“Well I mean, you keep muttering about Malfoy in your sleep. Like the other night you mumbled something about Hermione Malfoy! That would really be a nightmare, I mean, I can’t imagine you dreaming of Hermione marrying Malfoy and not being horrified by it,” Ron said, “And of course last night you were groaning about Malfoy and some kiss.”

Harry’s heart nearly stopped. Ron couldn’t know about The Incident could he? It was a good thing that he was talking and eating at the same time, because Harry would hate for anyone else to overhear that. He didn’t even bother to correct Ron about his assumption that he was dreaming of Hermione marrying Malfoy, which by the way, was a horrific notion. He hoped he didn’t have nightmares about that now. She was way too good for a prat like Malfoy. And Harry didn’t know why but his stomach churned uneasily at the thought of Hermione marrying someone. 

Hermione had been quietly eating her meal, letting the rest of her house mates discuss Malfoy. She was more interested in the various expressions that made themselves at home on Harry’s face after that little episode. He looked upset and she also noticed how pale he had become. He wasn’t saying much and usually, he would be the one telling Ron to forget about Malfoy. She was starting to realise why Harry was acting so weird lately. He didn’t seem to talk about Cho anymore, but he also wasn’t talking about Malfoy. And now if Ron was right he was having nightmares about Malfoy marrying her and dreaming about Malfoy and kisses. _Oh_ she thought. Her stomach clenched tightly. 

Harry liked Malfoy.


	5. Therapy

Hermione Granger had been acting weird, Ron observed. She was constantly stuttering and dropping things. She also seemed to be spending a lot of time in the kitchens lately. And _not_ for petitioning for house elf rights. Which was saying something. Between her and Harry, Ron was most confused. What in Merlin’s name was going on with his friends?

 Harry had taken to retreating to the library. Not something Ron was pleased about. He couldn’t eat in the library. He tried to follow Hermione to the kitchens, but she looked so put out at his company he decided against joining her again.  Well, actually he didn’t notice until Winky glared at him and shooed him out but still. He did manage to glimpse the elf bringing her a bowl of ice-cream and patting her shoulder consolingly. He figured she was upset that she couldn’t convince more people to join SPEW.

On his way back from the kitchens he bumped into Malfoy, who seemed like he was heading towards the kitchens. He had no doubt Malfoy wouldn’t be welcomed by the elves either.

“Watch it Weasley,” Malfoy said. But his usual bite was gone. He didn’t even make a tomato joke.

“Just great,” Ron muttered, “Even Malfoy’s gone round the bend.”

Was it too hard to ask for a little normalcy around here?

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Harry didn’t know why, but it seemed like Hermione was avoiding him. He took to spending his days in the library, hoping to catch her there. She did have to do homework sometime after all. And it wasn’t like Hermione to avoid the library. But it was getting late and there was no sign of her, so he packed up his stuff and reluctantly headed to his Occlumency lesson with Snape.

“Nice of you to join me, Potter,” snarled Snape. Harry wasn’t in the mood to retort that he was only five minutes late.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, preparing himself for Snape’s onslaught.

“Legilimens!” cried Snape.

Harry struggled to focus, barely keeping Snape out of his head. Snape broke the attack and Harry panted, sweat beading on his upper lip. Snape took advantage of his condition and cast the spell again. He wasn’t prepared for another attack so soon however, and was unable to prevent Snape from delving into his mind the second time.

_“Harry, mate, how’s it going,” said Fred, slinging an arm across his shoulder. “Uh well nobody’s tried to kill me yet so, fine?” he replied. “Just what we wanted to hear!” George beamed, looping his arm with Harry’s, steering him imperceptibly away from where he was going._

_“And guess what?” Fred said._

_“What?” said Harry._

_“We’re about to make your day even better!” George grinned._

_“Oh, and how are you going to do that?” Harry said, amused._

_“Just you wait and see!” Fred said, looking at his twin._

_“Wait a second, isn’t this the library corridor?” Harry said, just realising that they had steered him there._

_“It is. And a certain bookworm will be heading this way soon,” George replied._

_“Okay. Hermione’s going to the library. How is that supposed to make my day better? Is she going to offer to do my Potions essay?” he asked._

_“Not quite,” Fred said, and pushed Harry in front of him._

_“Hey what gives!” Harry cried, as he stumbled and righted himself just before face planting._

_He turned to give the twins a piece of his mind, his eyes widening when he saw the matching smirks on their faces._

_“Ohhh no, what did you do?” he said warily._

_“We just thought we’d spread some holiday cheer, that’s all,” said George._

_“Yup and who better to benefit than our favourite benefactor and his beautiful friend,” Fred said, waggling his eyebrows._

_“Exactly! So, enjoy!” George said, and they quickly scurried away._

_“Wait what?” Harry said, confused, “Come back here!” He ran after them. Except, he didn’t get very far. He hit an invisible wall and couldn’t go any further. He tried to go the other way, but met a similar obstruction._

_“Argh!” he cried, despairingly, clenching his fists and stomping his foot on the ground. Was it too much to ask for one normal day?_

\--

“N...no...” he groaned, trying to get Snape out of his head. He really didn’t want to relive that horrendous moment. He still had no idea what the twins were trying to accomplish that day. But it wasn’t Hermione who came along. It was...

\--

_“Malfoy, no!” he warned, unsuccessfully. But it was too late. Malfoy, on the way to do his own potions homework, had already walked through the invisible barrier. Which apparently did not keep people out but rather, in._

_“What the heck? What’s going on Potter? Release me this instance!” Malfoy demanded, after inspecting his face for damages where it had struck the barrier on the other side._

_“Believe me Malfoy, it’s no picnic being stuck together here with you either,” he snarled, “If I could, I would.” He had tested the limits of the barrier while waiting and hoping for the twins or a teacher to come along. It seemed like it was confined to a small area around him which he could not leave. He had no idea why the twins would do this to him. Or Hermione, since it seemed they wanted her to be stuck there with him? Barmy those two were._

_“Well then what do we do Potter?” Malfoy said aggravated, “And pray tell, how exactly did this happen?”_

_“Blast if I know. You can blame the twins for this one,” he retorted sourly. Malfoy looked at him weirdly, “I thought they were your friends?”_

_He snorted, “So did I.”_

_“As far as pranks go, this is pretty lame Potter. Annoying, but lame,” Malfoy said, looking around as if the twins would somehow get him back for saying it despite not being there._

_But as soon as he had spoken little white flakes of snow began to fall and a tingling sound was heard, prompting both of them to look up and..._

_Their faces paled._

_“Tell me that isn’t what I think it is, Malfoy,” Harry said, in a strangled voice._

_“It...isn’t what you think it is Potter,” he gulped._

_Harry was hit with a sudden sharp clarity. Ohhhhhh no. Oh no Oh no Oh no._

_They both scrambled back from each other, as far as the barrier permitted (which wasn’t much but suddenly seemed to be shrinking???)_

_“I will not!” Malfoy protested._

_“Neither will I!” said Harry._

_But the snow kept falling, and it was getting chilly in there, piling up in their little corner. The barrier was shrinking and pushing them closer together. And they just stared at each other, horrified as time kept ticking with nobody coming to help them._

_The devil plant remained there all the while, floating above their heads like a guillotine._

_“W...we might have to just...get it over with,” one of them said. At this point, neither of them knew who spoke. They were both having the same unfortunate thought._

“ENOUGH!” Harry panted, finally throwing Snape out of his mind, delving into the man’s mind instead. Though he only managed it due to the fact that the man’s concentration had momentarily wavered. He was promptly thrown out of Snape’s memories of being bullied, which he suspected would normally have been cause for the man to incinerate him where he stood except....

“Y..you and Draco.....” Snape stuttered uncharacteristically, stumbling backward into a conveniently placed chair. It took a lot to shock Snape. But this had done it. It had been enough to make him forget about his own humiliation being witnessed.

Harry’s face burned.

“I think I need a drink,” Snape said.

“I think _I_ need one,” Harry said.

And if Peeves went cackling about sobbing potions professors and chosen ones having drunken therapy sessions, well, it was just Peeves being Peeves.


	6. Inquisitive Professors and Idiotic Pancakes

Chapter 6

Minerva McGonagall was concerned. Lately the inhabitants of Hogwarts were acting strangely. Ronald Weasley was eating most meals by himself now. And though his appetite was as healthy as ever, he’d started to look forlorn. Often she’d see him turn to say something to one of his friends then morosely return to eating his food when he realised they weren’t next to him. Said friends were also acting out of the ordinary. In class, Potter was doing remarkably well. Of course she was pleased, but he’d not seemed quite like himself.  He would participate more in class now, but would surreptitiously look towards his female best friend, as if to gauge her reaction. As for the third member of their trio, her work was impeccable as usual, but she seemed quieter and more withdrawn. She’d shoot Potter glances in class that looked as if she were...pining. Strangely enough, she wasn’t the only one shooting him those looks. A certain Slytherin seemed to share the feeling. Though Hermione’s were tempered with something akin to heartbreak, while his glances contained more confusion.  

Her thoughts turned to Severus, who was currently hiccoughing next to her. She’d never known the man to indulge himself in drink but it seemed lately he’d been increasingly (and quite worryingly) under the influence. If that wasn’t bad enough, sometimes she’d see Potter leaving his office, looking subdued. He’d had less to say about Potter recently as well, and usually, Severus would have had fifty complaints by midday. She was well and truly flabbergasted. Something was clearly going on, but what???

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“Something wrong professor?” he said, and she startled so badly her glasses went askew. He was quick to apologise.

“No, it’s not your fault Longbottom, I should have been more alert,” came the reply, as she straightened her glasses, “Was there something you needed?”  

Neville had noticed that Professor McGonagall looked worried lately. He was even more concerned now that the normally astute professor did not even realise he was next to her, and it seemed she had not registered his question.

He had in fact only wanted to ask her if she’d seen Hermione, who’d been partnered with him for an assignment in transfiguration, but upon noticing the professor’s demeanour he chose to forego that enquiry.  

“No, it’s nothing. Forgive me professor, but, you don’t seem yourself this evening. Are you sure everything is okay?” he asked.  

She sighed, resigned, “Well _I_ am fine at any rate Longbottom. However I don’t suppose you could enlighten me as to what’s going on with your peers? I can’t have been the only one to notice the alarming change in behaviour surely?”

Clearly she couldn’t figure out what was going on on her own so what was the harm in asking Neville? He was far more intelligent than people gave him credit for. If only the boy were encouraged rather than insulted, he may have thrived. But Augusta Longbottom was living in the past and wishing a son where a grandson was. Sometimes she feared the damage done to the boy’s self-esteem and by extension, magical capabilities, was irreparable.

“Oh! Well you haven’t been the only one to notice, but it’s actually funny how easily it could be solved if they just plucked up some Gryffindor courage and admitted that they like each other,” he said, happy to be of help rather than a hindrance for once. “Harry and Hermione I mean”, he clarified, upon seeing the questioning look on her face. He spotted Hermione sneaking into the hall. “If that’s all professor, I’ll be on my way then!” he said, and dashed off to catch up with her.

Potter and Granger? Well...that certainly explained a lot.

“Oh dear,” she said to herself, “I think I see where this is going.” McGonagall had always had a soft spot in her heart for the two of them, but she had to admit that Potter wasn’t the most observant bloke in the world. She was also well aware that the young witch had some deeply hidden insecurities. Add in teenaged hormones, a limited capacity to express their feelings, and the avoidance dance they’d been doing and you had one perfect recipe for disaster. (Oh and let’s not forget about the evil megalomaniac bent on destroying Potter who was indubitably floating around somewhere doing whatever dark lords did in their spare time)

She hoped they found their inner Gryffindor soon. (Preferably sometime before Lord Moldyshorts tried something...)

A loud hiccough from Severus brought her back to the present, reminding her that while she solved one problem, she still wasn’t anywhere close to figuring out the other.

She hoped he sorted out his issues soon though because he smelled like he did the tango with a skunk. Sitting next to him was enough to put her off her food...for the next month.

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Severus did not in fact resolve his problem as quickly as she’d hoped. She caught him one afternoon belligerently accosting Potter and Ginny Weasley.

“Severus what in Merlin’s name is going on here!” she exclaimed, aghast. Then the smell hit her. Of course he was under the influence again. Though she wasn’t quite sure it was alcohol he was imbibing. It seemed he was not to be left unsupervised with a room full of potions ingredients while he was in this state. “You are in a lot of trouble mister,” she said, as if talking to a child; he was acting like one after all. “Come along now, to the headmaster we go.”

She turned to the shaken students, “Are you okay Potter, Weasley?”

They nodded absentmindedly, both too confused to really process what she was asking.

“Well I’ll just be taking Professor Snape here to see the headmaster....and possibly Madame Pomfrey. Go back to the common room now, it’s almost curfew,” she said, and departed.

She would have been upset to know she missed the most crucial part of the proceedings.

* _Earlier_ *

“You! You stole her from me you...you idiotic pancake!” Snape sputtered, stumbling towards them and grabbing Harry with one hand while waggling the fingers of the other accusingly in his face. It would have been more intimidating had he not somehow been wearing one of Dobby’s tea cosies on said hand.

 “What!?? _You_ like Hermione too???” Harry cried, horrified, squirming away from Snape. Harry was in no mood to appreciate the humour of the situation because he was too busy taking in the accusation itself.

Hermione, who had been taking a bathroom break while doing her project with Neville, was vacillating between indignation that Snape would comport himself in that manner, especially towards a student, and amusement at his choice of insult. However, when she heard Harry’s exclamation, she felt her heart skip a beat. Surely, she could not have heard what she thought she just heard. She didn’t even realise she was backing away until she hit a wall. It shook her out of her stupor and she ran off, without anyone ever noticing she had been there in the first place.

While she was having her internal crisis, Snape was still accusing Harry of stealing his girl.

“Hermowho?” he blinked, then snarled, “Don’t try that with me Potter! You won’t confund me today! You know full well I mean Lily!”

He turned loving eyes on Ginny and he suddenly lost his aggressiveness.

“Oh my sweet Lily-flower,” he groaned, taking her hands and sinking down to the floor, “What do you see in this plague sore? Is it the porcupine hair?”

Then suddenly, he grabbed Harry again. “My hair can look like that too!” he cried, shaking him but also looking deeply into Lily’s (...Harry’s) eyes. This all made perfect sense to him in his state of mind.

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Harry was frozen in place. He had simply gone looking for Hermione, intending to tell her his feelings once and for all. Ginny had accompanied him for motivational support. (Aka she was going to hide behind a bookshelf and stick his legs in place if he decided to chicken out and make for the hills.) He had in no way anticipated the way his evening would go however. This certainly was not in the realm of anything he could have ever imagined.

Hermione had definitely been avoiding him and that really hurt to think about. He could only conclude that somehow she knew of his feelings and thought he was a total creep. Then he thought that Hermione would never be that cruel so surely she must be avoiding him because she didn’t know how to let him down without hurting his feelings. After realising that he was in no way equipped to handle this newfound dilemma alone, he had gone to Neville to ask his advice once more. It was, after all, a comment from Neville that had him in this lovelorn situation to begin with. Neville had insisted they include Ginny in the discussion as Ginny would have more insight into Hermione than he would.

Ginny had basically told him he needed to Gryffindor-up and admit it to her because she was quite sure Hermione felt the same. When asked how she knew she just laughed and said woman’s intuition. Whatever that was.

So here they were, being attacked by Snape on the way to the Library, where Neville had gone to finish his project with Hermione and hopefully stall her there long enough for Harry to get there and announce his feelings.

Except of course Hermione never made it back to the library. And Snape seemed to think that Harry and Ginny were in fact Harry’s parents, James and Lily.

Harry shuddered in disgust. He had had a small crush on Ginny in the past, but he was so glad he was over it. Especially now that Snape had planted that image in his mind. Harry had enough problems; he truly didn’t need an oedipal complex on his best mate’s sister to complicate matters.

He was never so grateful in his life to see Professor McGonagall. Thank Merlin she interrupted Snape when she did. He really didn’t want to know what would have happened next.

Both Harry and Ginny stared at their retreating backs with a sense of relief.

Ginny turned to him, “What. Just. Happened.”

Harry just made a pained sound.


	7. Mental Gymnastics

Chapter 7

“I see,” said Dumbledore gravely, when McGongall had finally made it to his office, “Thank you for informing me Minerva, I shall go down to the hospital wing now.”

It was always such a pity when one became unable to withstand the pain inside them. He was no stranger to grief himself. Though he suspected that none but himself truly understood what was happening with his potions professor. The staff had brought him their concerns about his newfound habits already but so far he had not let it affect his teaching so Dumbledore had let him cope the only way he knew how, hoping that he would realise those habits did not actually help erase one’s sorrow. Sadly it seemed to be another poor decision on his part. He seemed to be making a lot of those lately.

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The occlumency lessons were clearly taking a toll on the man. Dumbledore felt his own cowardice then. He knew what memory Harry saw when he accidentally broke into Snape’s mind. Snape didn’t have to say much for the old man to guess. It was the one moment Severus wished he could go back and change because that was the moment that completely severed his friendship with Lily Evans. And Dumbledore knew that for all the excuses he made about not wanting to give Voldemort access to his mind etc. his real fear was twofold. One, that Harry would discover the secrets he kept view him in a different light. And two that those painful memories which he kept buried deep within himself would be dredged up again, the pain freshly renewed with them. He had instead passed off the duty to Severus, knowing full well both man and boy would hate the arrangement. He knew when he messed up. And this was one of those times. He was surely partially to blame for the man’s present condition.

“How is he Poppy?” he asked the matron, upon arriving at the hospital wing.

“He’s sleeping now. I’ve purged whatever he drank from his system. Nothing toxic, just highly likely to cause hallucinations and delusions. He’ll be fine with a good night’s rest. And of course a stern warning from you headmaster would be appreciated. He certainly cannot teach the students like that!" she grumbled.

“Of course Poppy, I shall see to it. I leave him in your care then,” he said.

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“Okay Harry, explain!” Ginny commanded, when they got back to the common room. All thoughts of confessing had been erased at that point.

Harry groaned. He didn’t really feel like explaining everything. It was just too personal. He didn’t like Snape but he saw what he went through at the hands of his father. And being bullied himself for the first half of his life, he couldn’t help but feel for the man. Maybe his father had grown up eventually but his younger self had definitely been a grade A jerk. Of course Snape as an adult was a huge jerk too so he supposed age didn’t equal maturity.

He did however owe Ginny an explanation after that ordeal. It was only fair.

“Well you know how lately Snape’s been looking like he drank all the firewhiskey in The Three Broomsticks?” he started.

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that actually,” she said, “It’s not like him. He’s been quite strange recently. And then he basically confessed his love to me but he thinks that I’m in love with you?”

“Well....” he explained about the occlumency, “and basically, I ended up seeing something I’d really rather have not known. I won’t say everything because I don’t think it’s right to be honest but I will tell you this....I think he loved my mother...”

Harry looked faintly green at the statement. He had already surmised they were friends (the horror!) from Snape’s memory, but he had no clue how deep the man’s feelings ran until earlier that day. The same way those sessions were taking a toll on Harry, it had to have been doing the same for Snape.

“So, I look like your mother then?” was Ginny’s conclusion.

“Basically....” he said.

“Oh. Well...thank Merlin we never happened then,” she said, finally smiling, “I would have been seriously worried about your mental health.”

Harry laughed, relieved.

“I’m glad you see it my way.”

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“Hey guys, what happened?” Neville asked.

He had waited for Hermione to be back from her bathroom break, but she never showed. He had just barely made it back to the common room before curfew as he had been hoping she would be back. Even Harry and Ginny never showed up.

But there they were in the common room laughing at he could only guess what. And there was no sign of Hermione.

“Long story Nev,” Ginny sighed, “Don’t ask but we got held up by Snape and couldn’t make it.”

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry chimed in, once again preoccupied with the object of his affection. Who was not there.

“I have no idea. She left to go to the bathroom and never made it back. I thought she might have met up with you guys and just came back here,” he said.

“What? You don’t know where she is?” Harry cried, worried.

What if something happened to her? He knew she could take care of herself but what if she was caught by Umbridge or the Inquisitorial Squad? Who knows what they would do to her.

“Don’t worry Harry, I’m sure she’s fine. Why don’t I go check in the dorm?” Ginny said.

“Oh yeah, good idea,” he said, calming down slightly. She could have just gone up to bed early like Ron did.

But Hermione wasn’t in the dorm. And Harry couldn’t find her on the map.

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As it turned out, upon fleeing the scene, Hermione’s legs unconsciously led her to the room of requirement where she lay dramatically sprawled on a soft bed and recounted the evening’s happenings.

_“What!?? You like Hermione too???” Harry cried_

She knew it was obvious that Harry had misunderstood Snape. But what did he mean by too?

It was almost like...but no!

She was getting ahead of herself. If she let herself have thoughts like that she’d start to hope. And hope was dangerous.

Besides, she must be thinking too highly of herself after all, to even go in that direction with her thoughts. Harry liked Draco anyway. And before Draco it was Cho. She was certainly not his type. He seemed to like them athletic and gorgeous after all, judging by his pattern. Ginny, Cho, Draco...all conventionally attractive and sporty. She was just the bookworm best friend who nagged him and was more like a mother than anything. She had bushy hair and was buck toothed before (ironically) Malfoy of all people gave her the opportunity to have them fixed. Besides, even if he accepted all of that there was no denying that when Ron had been avoiding him in fourth year, Harry was miserable. He definitely didn’t enjoy her company as much as Ron’s. So how could he.....she couldn’t even think the words for fear her heart would burst, but how could he feel that way when he couldn’t even stand to be in her company without Ron for any extended period of time?

Oh! That was it!

Ron!

It was _Ron_ who liked her!

She remembered his reaction to her and Viktor at the Yule Ball last year. It suddenly made sense. Harry knew that Ron liked her. That’s what he meant. He was surprised that someone else other than Ron liked her too. Never mind that Snape was obviously intoxicated and thinking of someone else. The point was that Ron liked her. And while it was flattering, she didn’t feel the same. She would have to find a way to let him down gently. Unfortunately she knew she carried a torch for Harry that would be burning for a long time to come, regardless of his feelings or lack thereof for her. She was one of his best friends still and she would always stand by him regardless of whether he returned her feelings or not. That’s what friends were for after all.

Oblivious to Harry’s sleepless night of worry, Hermione fell into a restful sleep thanks to all the gymnastics her mind had been doing.

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“What’s up with you mate?” Ron asked Harry the next morning, “You look like an owl took a fancy to you and tried to mate with your head. No offense.”

“Didn’t get any sleep,” Harry groaned, utterly oblivious to his bloodshot eyes and the state of his hair (which funnily enough actually did resemble a porcupine now), “Can’t find Hermione anywhere. On the map that is.” Ginny and Neville had convinced him to go up to bed, because if she had been taken by Umbridge, he’d be doing her no favours if he went and got himself caught out of curfew. Plus he needed rest to confront the troll. ‘ _Ha! The troll! How apt!_ ’ his sleep deprived brain provided, bringing up an image of him saving Hermione from a troll in their first year. Only now its face was replaced by Umbridge’s. It was a good comparison, if he did say so himself. (He wouldn’t mind sticking a wand up _her_ nose. She’d certainly deserve it more than the poor troll who had only been there thanks to Quirrel and his close ‘friend’.)

Of course rest he did not as he’d spent the entire night scouring the map, hoping that he’d simply missed her dot.

“What? Don’t be silly Harry, of course she’d be on the map, everyone is!” said Ron, unable to fathom how Hermione could possibly not show up on the genius map, “Even Wormtail showed up remember?”

“I know that Ron, why do you think I spent all night looking? She must be in trouble!” Harry said, panic lacing his voice. “That’s it!” he said, voice raising abruptly and making Ron jump, “I’m going to Dumbledore.”

He had so far been avoiding Dumbledore out of anger since it seemed that the old man was avoiding telling him anything and avoiding him on the whole at that. Then he had the nerve to stick him in extra lessons with Snape. (Which mind you he’d never recover from. It was horrific to think that _Snape_ could have possibly been his father if he had played his cards right.) But in any case, this was about Hermione. And when it came to Hermione he’d swallow his pride and stoop to visiting the Headmaster.

“Dumbledore?” said Ron alarmed, “But you never want to see him these days! Besides I’m sure Hermione’s fine. Maybe you just need a fresh pair of eyes. Here, give me that.” And with that he snatched the map out of Harry’s hands and proceeded to search for Hermione himself. If she wasn’t there then he’d march to Dumbledore’s office himself.  He did care about her like a sister after all. If anyone hurt her they would pay! But he didn’t see the need to involve the teachers if Harry just missed her. Harry just rolled his eyes sceptically at Ron, whose eyes were now scouring the parchment intently.

“There,” he said, pointing triumphantly, “I told you she was fine. See?”

And Harry did see.  Hermione-dot was at the Gryffindor table, looking for all intents and purposes like it had never been gone.

Harry begrudgingly conceded that maybe Ron was right and he simply had needed a fresh pair of eyes. He was slightly peeved that Ron had found her so fast, though Ron soothed his prickled feelings by suggesting it was simply luck that he did since she was at his favourite place, (which of course his eyes had been drawn to first, naturally), the breakfast table.  

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews help Harry come to terms with his feelings.
> 
> A/N: This story is a sort of continuation of my other story Harry’s Woeful Week, but because his date with Cho is canon you should be able to understand it without having read that.


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